


homesick for your skin

by tripleangst



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Friendly banter, M/M, soft boys cuddling and swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7559227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tripleangst/pseuds/tripleangst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitch likes to make Dylan shiver. Dylan likes to make Mitch melt.<br/><i>Confusing summer love in the GTA, swimming pool included.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	homesick for your skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [torigates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/gifts).



> Hope you like it! I may have hand waved some things, but this fic takes place in the summer before the 2016 - 2017 NHL season as we all anxiously await where Dylan and Mitch will end up.  
> Title inspired by Andrea Gibson’s “Stay,” and thanks to thistidalwave for giving it a quick read.

Mitch likes to make Dylan shiver, has a habit of hugging him from behind and blowing soft air on Dylan’s ear. Whenever he does this, Dylan’s neck always involuntarily arches back--he hates getting tickled so much--but Mitch knows he can get away with annoying him. It’s worse when they’re in a pool like now.

“Ahh, no, stop!” Dylan whines, sticking his butt out to lightly shove Mitch off of him. Mitch lets himself float back on the water, laughing at Dylan’s bad attempt of looking upset. Even with Mitch a safe few feet from him, Dylan shows more signs of protest by protecting his ears. “You suck.”

Mitch stands up in the pool and grins over at him. “You’re so easy. You know that’s the only reason why I do it.”

Dylan huffs and splashes at him before turning back towards the deep end to swim all the way to the wall. He knows Mitch will come over to him soon--he’s like a leech--but for the moment, he enjoys the quiet. Summer in the GTA has always made Dylan a bit anxious. There are too many practices spaced out, friends to see, and time to not waste. Mitch had texted him some time in May to say they should hang out just the two of them some time this summer, so that Some Time is now. No time to waste.

As expected, before Dylan can turn around, Mitch is wrapping his arms around Dylan’s calf underwater. Dylan sighs to himself before raising his leg up and grabbing Mitch by the shoulders to force his upper body to come up and out of the water. 

“Maybe I’m not easy to piss off, maybe it’s just you,” Dylan says.

Mitch is already grinning before he wipes the water from his eyes, steadying himself against the side of the pool. “I guess I’m lucky then, huh?”

Dylan rolls his eyes as Mitch’s grin turns into a soft smile. This happens sometimes. Mitch will annoy Dylan, Dylan will tell him to stop, and then Mitch will smile and all is forgiven. It’s almost like hating Mitch most of his junior career gave him a high “Mitch tolerance” for later on in life. Dylan can’t help but notice the water droplets that are still trapped in Mitch’s eyelashes as he’s grinning. He also can’t help but notice he loves Mitch’s eyelashes. And his eyes. And his face. And...

It’s almost like Dylan hating Mitch in the OHL is going to make him really miss him in the NHL. New schedules, new teammates, new lifestyles. The feeling of not wanting to waste anymore time starts creeping back.

“Maybe I’m lucky too,” Dylan finds himself saying out loud.

“What?” Mitch asks. They’re the only ones in the pool, but a mother and her two little kids are unpacking their floatie toys on the tanning chairs.

“Um,” Dylan responds.

***

Dylan likes to make Mitch melt, has a habit of saying things under his breath that mean something more to Mitch than most people, probably. He’s one of the tallest guys Mitch knows, but he’s still got a partial babyface that pouts and likes to mumble. Mitch is obsessed.

Flirting with Dylan via Instagram was exciting, and when they upgraded to meaningful emojis over text, Mitch was done for. 

_“Um,” Dylan responds._

Mitch staring blankly at him doesn’t offer much to the situation, but he doesn’t know what to do. Some of their text conversations have gotten pretty intimate before--no sexting or anything, just _feelings_ \--but it always feels different when they’re this close to talking about it out loud.

“Do you want to get out maybe?” Mitch asks hesitantly, motioning over to the family coming into the pool, oblivious of their about-to-be private moment.

Something’s on Dylan’s mind and Mitch isn’t sure if he likes it. He reaches for Dylan’s hand under the water and holds it gently. It’s a risky move, but Mitch has never been one to hold back.

He judges the situation right. Dylan squeezes his hand gently and keeps holding it long enough to look Mitch in the eyes. Dylan Strome holding his hand _and_ looking him in the eyes feels a little bit too much, but when Dylan smiles, it’s definitely a sad smile, so Mitch is determined to investigate.

“Come on,” Mitch says, letting go of Dylan’s hand and going over to the pool ladder slowly.

They each grab the towels they brought, both tie-dyed flower ones from Mitch’s house. Mitch really wanted to use his _Jungle Book_ towel, but his mom hadn’t washed it yet, and damn, that reminds Mitch. He should probably learn how to do his own laundry in order to not embarrass himself this fall. If he gets the chance to live with a Leafs’ veteran, he wants to feel as independent as possible.

They stay quiet on the way back to Mitch’s car, which of course is uncharacteristic of both of them, so Mitch knows Dylan really must be thinking hard about something.

Mitch leaves his seatbelt unbuckled, but Dylan’s already got his on by the time Mitch is in the car. It’s stifling in the car from the heat, so Mitch has to roll down the windows. They’re probably going to soak the seats, but they’re not leaving the parking lot until Mitch gets some answers. “All right, what’s up?”

He thinks he’ll have to pry it out of Dylan, but Dylan starts talking right away. “I’m going to miss everyone I’ve gotten to know, you know? Like we’re all going in different directions now and have been for a while, and this is like _it_.”

Mitch doesn’t miss the slight sinking feeling in his heart when Dylan doesn’t single him out of missing “everyone.”

“You’ll still see guys on breaks and around. The ones that matter, anyway.” 

Dylan nods. “But even talking to Connor’s different. I don’t like it.”

Mitch knows the feeling. “It’s the game. Sacrifices are made, you know?”

“Yeah, but I’m going to miss days like this.” 

It’s out of his mouth before he realizes. “Miss days like this? Or miss me?” _Shit._ He holds his breath. He doesn’t think he needs to, but his lungs have never worked very well around Dylan.

Dylan smirks. “Like I’d ever miss you, Marner.”

His response lightens the mood, but he’s deflecting.

Mitch is about to respond, but then Dylan says, “if we both make the roster, then we’ll only be facing each other like twice a season.”

“Well, we’re face to face right now.”

Mitch is getting good at encouraging the conversation forward. Dylan looks at him for the first time since they’ve gotten in the car. “If I kiss you right now, what’s going to happen?”

They’ve never kissed before, but Mitch is pretty sure he’s mapped out Dylan’s face in his head more times than he’d like to count. Whenever Dylan is staring at him, Mitch gets upset because he finds new things to like about Dylan’s face every single time. Just how many times does he have to stare at him?

Mitch thought he’d be more anxious in this moment, and maybe it’s because Dylan is suddenly so calm or turned on or whatever, but, “I don’t know what’ll happen. I hope I like it.”

Dylan scoffs.

“Kiss me and we’ll go from there,” Mitch adds.

Still with his seatbelt on, Dylan slowly leans over the arm console, and Mitch expects him just to land one on him, but then Dylan’s reaching his hand out to cradle Mitch’s cheek. It’s so strangely intimate and certainly not what Mitch was expecting. Scratch the not nervous part, Mitch is definitely feeling something. He can tell Dylan is just as nervous as he is by the way his breath starts to become uneven, but they both want this. That, Mitch knows.

Dylan leans in further and kisses him. No tongue, just presses his lips against Mitch’s until their lips settle in against one another’s and start moving together. Dylan’s lips are still slightly cool from the pool and Mitch can taste the hints of chlorine, but he’s kissing back. It’s nice and slow until Dylan struggles to unbuckle his seatbelt in order to lean closer. Mitch helps him out by leaning forward and matching Dylan by putting his hand on his cheek to help steady his head so they don’t break the kiss.

It lasts less than thirty seconds, but Mitch’s world has now changed. His head is spinning, and Dylan just made out with him, and his heart is beating hard without his permission, and he just kissed Dylan back.

Dylan’s the first to break the silence. They’re still close, Dylan leaning over the arm console, but he’s far enough away for Mitch to see his whole face. “I mean, you’re not drop-kicking me out of the car right now, so it was okay?”

Mitch laughs. The loudness of it breaks them out of the intimate car bubble Mitch didn’t realize had formed until he broke it. “I can kick you out if you want, but I don’t know how you’re getting home.”

“Should we, like, talk about it?” Dylan asks.

Mitch can’t help but like him more for being clueless. “I thought that’s what we were doing.”

Dylan needs straight answers though. “Like, does this mean we’re dating?”

Mitch feels his cheeks burning. “I don’t... know? I think we should like have lunch first?”

Dylan looks at him. Blinks. “Are you rejecting me, Marner? What the fuck.”

Mitch hopes his laugh masks his now vulnerable state of _fuck, I like Dylan a lot._ “No, no, but uh, I don’t know what to say about it at the moment? I need a sandwich?”

Finally, Dylan gets on his level of agreeing. “I need alcohol.”

 

They end up going back to Mitch’s parents’ house to make sandwiches, but Dylan turns down the beer Mitch offers him, even though he said in the car he wanted to drink.

When Mitch’s mom comes in the kitchen and comments on them making sandwiches together, it almost feels too domestic, but then Dylan squirts too much mustard on his sandwich and Mitch gets to laugh at him like old times for five minutes.

 

They don’t talk about kissing, even after they’re done eating and lying down on Mitch’s bed, both of them playing on their phones. Mitch knows he’s avoiding the relationship question Dylan brought up. He knows what he wants, but he’s just not sure he should let himself get it.

Even with the air-conditioning on, the sun coming through his bedroom windows still warms up the room considerably, making Mitch feel sleepy. That’s why when Dylan asks randomly if they can cuddle, Mitch doesn’t object.

He figures they’ll need to have a better talk soon, but as Dylan wraps an arm around him and presses up against him, all Mitch wants to do is fall asleep in Dylan’s arms. Dylan was right. They won’t get many more days like this.

***

Dylan likes to make Mitch shiver, and he gets to when Mitch is still playing on his phone, not expecting Dylan to start kissing his neck. 

Mitch tilts his head further to the side, giving Dylan better access to his neck, and arches into his touch. Dylan knows it’s a little embarrassing to be getting hard from just this, but what’s wrong with getting sexually aroused when you’re pressed against Mitch Marner?

He feels kind of dumb for asking if they were dating earlier, but then Mitch is reaching behind him to grab Dylan’s hip, encouraging Dylan to grind into him as Dylan’s still sucking on his neck, most definitely marking him with a hickey, and fuck.

He can hear Mitch breathing heavier now, but, “Hey, wait, we should, um,” Dylan starts and then stops, not sure of what to say.

Mitch sighs, but Dylan can’t see his face to know exactly what he’s feeling. “No, you’re right. You’re right. I just want to, like--”

“--be close?” Dylan offers.

“Yeah, if that’s what you call shoving your dick in me.” 

Dylan sees Mitch’s smirk stretch across his face and up into the stratosphere. Jesus Christ. “What a mouth you’ve got on you.”

Mitch turns around in Dylan’s arms, draping his free leg over Dylan’s in the process. “Save the dirty talk for the bedroom, Stromer,” he grins.

Dylan rolls his eyes. “We’re in the bedroom, idiot.”

Mitch yawns and digs his head into Dylan’s chest. “All I want is to be able to see your dumb face every day and be the best hockey player in the NHL. Is that too much to ask for?”

Dylan tightens his grip around Mitch and pulls him in closer, if that was even humanly possible. “One of those is too much to ask for. ...Being the best player in the NHL, that is.”

The next thing Dylan feels is his shirt getting wet and Mitch’s teeth lightly gnawing around his sternum area. He can’t help but laugh. “What the hell are you doing?”

Mitch sounds determined. “Eating you. You’re mean to me. I’m going to kick your ass whenever I play you. Not even going to try to score, just gonna throw you right into the boards and slap your butt with my stick.”

Dylan feels his heart sore from the violently innocent image Mitch just created for him. “Can’t wait.”

They go back and forth like that in bed for a while, going into unnecessary detail about what they’re going to do when they see each other during the season--both careful to add “hypothetically” when any plans mention being in the NHL. Once they settle down, both of them are back to lying side by side with their phones out. Just like old times.

Mitch leans over to him at some point and tilts his phone’s screen for Dylan to read. It’s an Instagram post Mitch is about to publish, a selfie of them from earlier when Dylan arrived at his house. They have their shirts off in the picture, of course, all smiles and ready to go swimming. The caption reads _good day with @dylstrome19 [sun emoji]_

“Good?” Mitch asks.

Dylan smiles and nods, feeling his heart get a little giddy when Mitch posts it. He immediately goes to find it and is the first to like it. He wasn’t the first guy to like Mitch, and he won’t be the last, but maybe he can be the last guy Mitch likes on more than just Instagram. 

Mitch can’t read his mind, but he can probably feel the cheesy thoughts Dylan is having currently. He blinks once. Twice. Smiles. “I think we should try phone sex when the season starts.”

“Oh my god. Stop.”


End file.
